Adam the crow on his food expedition : )

 

If you sometimes start to wonder how a crow serves its purpose in the world, please let it not be on a plate for dinner, as I recently discovered. And yes, perhaps I am a prude to savour eccentric flavours, but an intelligent creature like a crow does not seem appetising to me at all.

And I am better described as a stalker of birds, but I am fairly certain they know I'm around. For example, this crow—let's call him Adam—finishes his crushed walnuts, which he had earlier used the car to crunch down and snack on, and now I see Adam hopping off towards the sidewalk. So of course, I follow him.

I am being silent as a leaf, analysing Adam's strategy for foraging in the roadside mulch and bushes. At one remarkable instant, I even had my hopes up that he discovered a new walnut, but alas, it is just another leaf. One never to be upset by rejection, Adam moves on to the next pile, and the next one after that pile, which is an honourable hustle and drive—something to learn from Adam.

I see very few acts of amusement performed by birds, so I wonder if walking around these streets is some sort of hobby for Adam. He is either a fastidious inspector or an unemployed vandal looking for grub before returning to sleep. I assume there is some sort of middle point there, as Adam seems neither too cautious nor too interested as I join him on this journey.

And just as I begin to take his attention for granted, he performs the most remarkable spin and flies right over my head, just nearly swooping the top of my hair. And before I regain my balance, Adam is already in search of his new throne—he will find better mulch elsewhere.